


stub in a whirling ashtray

by orphan_account



Series: hewn and reborn amongst the dust [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Debt, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Gen, Ghosts, Life Debt, POV Second Person, lapslock, otherworldliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21552076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: something about bede seems... off. you can't quite place it.
Relationships: Beet | Bede & Yuuri | Gloria
Series: hewn and reborn amongst the dust [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553158
Comments: 3
Kudos: 57





	stub in a whirling ashtray

you know that there's something… strange about them. you just can't quite place it. 

is it that odd little gleam in their eyes? is it the slight innocent in that arrogant way they tilt their head? you are unsure. anything could be possible, with them.

(you know a few things. you know they whisper to the fae-like pokémon beside themselves, and that its voice tinkles like starlight. if you listen too closely to the voice it will consume you.) 

they challenge you to a battle. something old glimmers in their eyes – that odd little gleam, but with more to it. more than you can ever hope to know.

everything about bede is strange.

their gothita chirps some old tune as they settle on the battle field. a perish song, if you had to guess. litwick shudders and flinches away from the song. ah. a destiny bond, then. no wonder it reacted so harshly.

bede smirks, says something about how their gothita will easily defeat your litwick. the flames on its head grow, flickering in response to the challenge. they have only fed its anger. litwick's will o' wisp settles over gothita's skin.

you swap out, just in time, as gothita lashes out with a furious psybeam. pawniard smirks as the attack spills over it. its payback cuts deep into gothita and the pokémon falls down. out for the count.

solosis up next, you swap back into litwick. another will o' wisp leaves the solosis trembling midair. bede makes a sound of frustration, and orders it to use psyshock. chirping in agreement, it sends the attack towards litwick. litwick flinches. the opportunity is just enough to knock it out cold. 

the pain shivers – up, over your left arm, towards your shoulder – and you are reminded of your duty. the pokeball at your waist trembles.  _ of course, of course,  _ you comply, and send it out.

frillish hums, soft and mourning, the sound settling over your skin. it lingers in your bones. "mist, hex," you murmur, and the humming turns to a wail. thin veils of ice settle over frillish, even as it screeches. solosis falls down and bede retrieves it.

"hatenna!" calls bede, and sends out their small psychic-type. it looks tearful, as if grieving. everything about the creature is wrong. you do not trust it. "play nice, if you will?"

it cheers and approaches frillish. the two fronds at the side of its (head? hat?) waver up towards the jellyfish. frillish takes them, tightening its grip in a rough approximation of bind.

(you know a few more things. bede keeps a wreath of oak and ivy around their wrist. their food has just a fraction too much salt in it. some part of their being is kept locked away, behind that name–) 

"psybeam!" orders bede, and frillish rears back. you think for a split second but the jellyfish already knows your orders. it wails, rain pours from the skies. an orb of water spills over hatenna and it falls down. 

they retrieve their pokémon quietly.

the blizzard comes over the wild area cold and quick. before you know it you are freezing, frost clinging to your lashes, the cold sticking to your bones. 

pawniard forces the pegs of the tent into the ground. frillish steers you inside as quickly as it can.  _ food, food,  _ demands litwick,  _ a feast!  _

"of course," you tell them. "what would you like?" 

_ the morsel, dry and sweet!  _ frillish cries.  _ the salt and the blood,  _ pawniard cheers.  _ the mortal!  _ demands litwick.

you cook. it is a mere approximation of what you could do, limited by the ingredients you have on hand. the dry curry has just a hint of sweetness to it, topped by the cured meats pawniard eats so often. you split the portions equally between them, leaving half for yourself. something is going to happen. 

you drag bede in, out of the cold. there is sand in that thick, puffy jacket of theirs. why do they bother wearing it? "take it off," you tell them. they look somewhat affronted. "there's sand all over that thing." 

still looking affronted, bede shrugs their coat off. you pass them a jacket and a portion of curry. they stare at it like they don't know what they're supposed to do. 

you say, "eat." 

"i can't –" bede starts. "i can't accept this." they shake their head, and pass the curry back over to you. you frown and pass it back. 

"eat," you repeat. bede eats. something about him seems… different, than it was before. you can't place what. 

(you know more, now, than you ever knew before. the clefairy whisper about how they will steal you away to the moon. the morgrem tucked away in the corner demands a feast. the hattrem, soft and quiet as they are, whisper and chirp about the sacrifice before themselves.

but – they are creatures of the light, and they do not touch where the shadows linger.) 

your litwick chirps and settles itself against your lap. bede looks to be half-asleep, propped up against one of the support stands. they tap against their heavy metal bracelet. the flame grows brighter. 

_ to feed, to feed,  _ hums litwick.  _ to grow, ever stronger, ever brighter… i thank you for your service.  _

you are indebted to it. you do not notice the careful way bede listens to your words.

**Author's Note:**

> twt @ starrywins
> 
> fae bede! fae bede!
> 
> i vividly remember litwick consuming life force, and, well. i'm playing as a ghost-type trainer, so this seemed appropriate to write.


End file.
